Poems (Denver)/The River Echo

by Mary Caroline Denver

THE RIVER ECHO.

In the heart of green Kentucky,
 With its woods and mountains blent,
Lies a cave of wondrous beauty,
 Rare and most magnificent.
In its chambers cold and lofty,
 Strange shapes of crystal rise,
Gem-like in their icy splendor,
 Antique in their imageries.

Through that cavern vast and wondrous
 Runs a river deep and broad,
With its ever-swelling billows,
 Surging through the dim abode.
Toward the world of light they struggle
 With a never-ending strife,
Like a great soul in thick darkness,
 Searching for the way of life.

And they call that river, Echo;
 For a sound cast on its wave,
Quickly caught, as by enchantment,
 Rebounds from cave to cave;
Then returning with new vigor,
 Like a courser o'er the plain,
To the place from which it started,
 Back it boundeth once again.

Once I stood beside that river,
 With thy name upon my lips,
Whose dear eyes in silent sorrow,
 Closed so soon in death's eclipse;
Then from cave to cave it echoed,
 With a sob, a sigh, a start,
Till, returning with a murmur,
 Back it nestled in my heart.

And it rests there, silent, sacred
 From the littleness of earth;
A dear memory ever treasured
 For its nobleness and worth.
And with hopeful patience ever
 I look upward by God's grace,
Till near the crystal river
 I shall meet thee face to face.

Not as there within that cavern,
 With its echoings profound,
Shall I hear thy name repeated
 With a cold and mocking sound;
But will see thee clothed in radiance,
 Such as only angels wear,
With the new name God has given,
 Written on thy forehead fair.